Deny Thy Father
by withthatimightadd
Summary: Grace Campbell has led an absolutely shit life. Accidentally murdering her first love is what prompts her to flee Beacon Hills and never return. But a life endangered by the person she is supposed to love is what prompts her to move back. She thought she had left the supernatural back in New York; but events begin to unfold in Beacon Hills which make her realise that she was wrong
1. Chapter 1

She misses Beacon Hills. More specifically, she misses her freedom but Beacon Hill is as good as a metaphor for freedom.

The front door of her shitty, rat infested apartment creaks as it opens and she sharply turns her head from the window. Pining for the unreachable was what ended her up in this fucking place

Jean is talking- some drug deal gone wrong; Luca got hit- she doesn't really care. Hell, she doesn't even really care about him but he's her main of sustenance so she puts up with his shit.

She laughs bitterly, she's barely sixteen and she's already talking like a resentful old wife. Well, she did learn from the best.

"Grace, are you listening?" Jean obviously says this in French since he's not bothered to learn English for his supposed "love." At least that's what he calls her after they fuck and after he slaps her around hard enough to make her cry. His tone is not happy and she already expects the punch before it collides with her cheek.

Doesn't make it hurt any less.

"Dumb fucking bitch." Each word is punctuated by a sharp slap. It's sad how she's not even shocked to be used like a fucking punch bag. How did being called a "whore" become an everyday occurrence?

Oh wait; it was when she made her first kill.

Abigail Edmonds was the picture of purity; a blonde haired blue eyed preacher's daughter who was supposedly celibate according to her ex-boyfriends. However, the reason for her "celibacy" wasn't a misgiven devotion to an absent god; it was the fact she was more inclined towards those of the feminine variety rather than masculine.

Oh god, she can still remember how her skin smelt like strawberries and cream, how fucking pure and innocent she was.

And then Grace went and killed her.

It was an accident. She hadn't meant for Abigail to die, Christ, she didn't even know how sex would end up in her death.

But her fucking hunger was awaked that night and ever since then all it has done is take and take from her until she's barely a shell of who she used to be.

A year ago, she wouldn't have put up with Jean's shit but she has no other food source, nowhere else to go.

She won't go back to Beacon Hills, can't. She knows her family are worried, she's seen them on tv begging for their daughter back, hoping against all odds that their little girl is safe.

Cliché as the statement sounds, she's not their little girl anymore.

But when she looks at Jean's bare back illuminated by the moonlight, she knows he's going to get her killed. Indirectly or directly, she's gonna end up in a body bag in the Hudson if she stays.

She knows where Jean keeps his stash of cash from various gigs and she doesn't feel an ounce of regret when she the whole hundred thousand. His fault for being stupid enough to tell her where it was and to still treat her like shit.

Because she's a fucking coward, she packs her shit in the middle of the night and gets the hell out of dodge. She leaves him a note telling him in no fewer than five words that she's sick of his shit.

She doesn't feel an ounce of regret when she hails down a yellow taxi. The driver doesn't make a note of her black eye and busted lip. Thanks to her new found supernatural status they should heal well before she lands in California.

He drives her to JFK silently, only speaking when demanding the cash.

She hands him a hundred out of Jean's money and tugs her satchel out with her. She doesn't have much in it other than the money.

Jean is going to be so fucking pissed. If he knew her actual name, she'd be worried he'd come down and murder her. He wouldn't be the first vampire she got on the wrong side of and he sure as hell won't be the last.

She makes a promise to herself, in the airport terminal, to not fuck around with any more vampires for the time being. The whole reason she's going back home is to escape this supernatural bullshit; at least for a while.

California here she comes.


	2. Kill or Be Killed

She wasn't exactly sure what she expected would happen when she went home but this sure as hell wasn't it. The house is empty, white sheets over the furniture left behind. Dust has built up and she draws a finger through it.

Her family are gone, she realises.

Why there gone, where they're gone; questions she can't answer swim around her head and she thinks it selfish of her to expect them to wait. Who would want to wait for their screw-up of a daughter to come home?

But that isn't true though. She's seen the nationwide appeals for her whereabouts, her mother's tears, how her father couldn't even talk during the speeches. Hell, she had seen flyers with her picture on it labelled 'missing' in capital, red, underlined words even in New York.

An uneasy feeling settles in her gut.

Her mother was the best defense attorney this side of California, her brother, Sam, was starting high school next year. No way would they move so suddenly.

But it hasn't been sudden; she's been gone for an entire year. She's been gone for an entire year and not once did she think "I wonder how my family are?"

She hasn't even talked to them once. She knows that it's partly Jean's fault; but it's mostly her's. Laying her duffle bag on the floor, she dials her mother's number. When that doesn't work, she dial's her brother's. No answer.

Based on the stack of bills in front of the front door, they've been gone awhile, which means that Jean or his cronies have no involvement in their disappearance.

Or have they?

She runs over all the conversations she overheard in the last six months, usually Jean preferred to deal with business before he got down to "business."

That business obviously involving them feeding on each other and having fantastic sex afterwards. Despite all his faults, he did know his way around a bedroom. Well, what would a 600+ year old vampire do in his spare time?

She's so hungry, has been since the plane from New York had landed in Boston. During her time in New York she's been spoilt. Hasn't had to hunt for food, she's been able to indulge all she's liked without the fear of spilling innocent blood, an all you can eat buffet.

And now she's back to the hunt.

She's not going to hunt tonight, she decides as she steps out of her childhood home. She has three days left before she starts to go feral.

She doesn't want to go feral again.

The car ride to the police department is short; it isn't like Beacon Hills is a sprawling metropolitan area

And she's just about to get out of her car when she overhears on her (illegal) police scanner that there's been a body found in the woods, and not just a dead body but _half_ of a dead body. She only been in town two days and already there's a dead body in the woods.

This isn't coincidence, life living amongst, hell, _being_ a supernatural, has taught her that. No, whatever has happened out in the woods somehow has to do with her.

It has to, considering the fact that she's the only supernatural being currently in town. This coinciding with her family's disappearance means only one thing; Jean, or someone involved with him, has found her and is sending a message.

Her hands shake as she turns the ignition, it can't be her family. They've been gone too long, but her dad? Her dad, to her knowledge, has been in Beacon Hills in this whole time.

She's seen the remains of his victims, has seen how brutal and excessive their wounds were, how much they must've suffered. Her dad's nearly fifty years old and is definitely in no condition to fight, hell, the last time she saw him he was barely able to do gardening without getting out of breath.

* * *

She parks at the edge of the woods, far away from the neon lights and blaring sirens. She pulls her leather jacket closer to herself, shielding her body from the cool August window

The leaves crunch underneath her combat boots, leaving a satisfying crunching noise

Stepping over a fallen log, she takes a deep breath in. It's funny how you can be reminded of your entire childhood in one breath.

Her mother had been on good terms with Talia Hale, both of them being deeply involved in the town affairs, and so she got the pleasure of being the play date of Derek Hale.

Putting it out there, Derek Hale was a grumpy child. Being six years older than his supposed "play date", it was understandable. Being an over glorified babysitter with no pay would make anyone grumpy.

Still, she always managed to somehow coax a smile out of him. Or, if she didn't, Laura would.

A noise startles her out of her reminiscing; the snap of a twig underfoot. She glances around her but to no avail; the creature who made the noise was nowhere to be seen. An uneasy lead like feeling settles in the pit of her stomach, her mind screams at her to be on high alert, that whatever, whomever, was out there a threat to her.

Predators know how to stalk prey, how to clean up afterwards so their scent isn't followed. This is no different, only this time she's the prey, as cliché as it sounds.

She crouches behind a tree, scanning the horizon. Cricket chirps echo into the otherwise silent night when she sees it; something in the distance moves, too fast for human eyes to even comprehend.

Her flight or fight instinct kick in, and she bolts into the night, her feet thudding heavily against the forest floor. Leaves whip up around her as she zig zags through the maze of trees. The thing following her is in hot pursuit, giving up any pretence at remaining incognito.

She's running so fast she doesn't notice the guy in front of her until she slams full body into him. Deer race overhead as she lies against his chest, face to face. Were this any other occasion she would crack a joke but she doesn't think her potential murderer would appreciate it.

"Stay. Down." She hisses at him, any sense of decorum sailing right out the door.

"What?" He stutters out. Red Hoodie, as she's taken to calling him, is very attractive and was she not in a life threatening situation she definitely would've hit on him.

"Tell me if you see it." She orders as she begins scanning the horizon. She can fucking sense this mother fucker, how is he still remaining invisible.

"What is-" Red Hoodie doesn't even get to finish his sentence before he scream. She moves to scramble off of him but a pair of jaws clamp around her legs.

Pain bursts throughout her leg and she creams as she's dragged through the leaves. Red Hoodie has gotten up and see knows that look in his eyes; will I help, it says, or will I go?

"Help me!" She screeches as she kicks at the thing's head with her other foot. It snarls and tosses her aside like a piece of meat.

It's not long before she can hear Red Hoodie's screams echoing out through the night. She's a bad person; she's fully aware of the fact, thank you.

She's a bad person and she _runs._ She abandons the kid to whatever plan the monster has in store for him so she can get a head start to her car.

This life is about kill or be killed and, while she does feel regret for her actions, she's not going to lay herself on a sacrificial altar.

She nearly cries when she feels the smooth metal of her shitty pickup truck beneath her palm. When she pukes she pretends that it's solely from the pain from having her leg munched on.

(It's not.)


End file.
